Representation
by Ziven
Summary: {Be Cool Series} [Post-canon, AR, M/M] Mokuba decides to ask his brother a not-so-innocent question. -Respectshipping, Yami x older!Mokuba-


**Premise:** After losing the Ceremonial Duel, the Gods gift Yami with a new body as a reward for his role in defeating Zorc. Years pass. With some help from Mokuba, who has just returned to Domino after completing school overseas, he has a more positive outlook on the opportunities before him. After working out some difficult emotional issues, he finally accepts his existence for what it is. The two fell into a FWB arrangement during this period and, in the end, decided to pursue something more concrete. They've been together for a while.

 **Summary:** Mokuba decides to ask his brother a not-so-innocent question.

 **Continuity:** This story is based in my "Be Cool" Universe, later on in the timeline. There are a few fics based in it, but if you can accept the premise (above) without having to read them, you shouldn't have any problems. If Mokuba/Yami is difficult for you to perceive, I'd give perusing "Be Cool" a try.

 **Notes:** 1\. I wasn't really expecting to write this. It just sort of popped up out of nowhere.

2\. I couldn't format the name the way that I wanted. ;A;

 **Warnings:** References to kink in the form of powerplay. Very light references.

* * *

 **[Rep]resentation**

"Seto, do you ever get tired of being in charge?"

The question would be perceived as sudden, he knew. It was just not the sort of thing a person would ask Seto Kaiba, and certainly not while in his office. But Mokuba wasn't just anyone, and this was a topic never before broached between them. He was used to seeing his brother step up and tell people what to do. Even when it wasn't Seto's job to.

Mokuba never saw himself being envious of management, and that held true. Being the head of PR was nerve wracking. Seated there, across from his brother with a large oak desk in between, he could feel his phone buzzing. Ever since he took over his work line was never quiet. There were literally droves of people who either wanted to see Seto, try to make him more relevant or latch on to what relevance was already there. Not that either of them would accept. Neither brother was interested in being in the spotlight unless they were furthering a project. But Mokuba was the one _dealing_ with their would-be courtiers of the press.

And then, at home, he managed everything too.

Seto's expression nearly begged for a follow-up question. "Of course not. I'm good at my job. God forbid anyone else be in my position. They would just screw it up. I belong here."

He'd missed the point. Mokuba decided to try again. "Isn't it exhausting telling everyone what to do all the time? Have you ever wished that people could just be competent on their own?"

It was hard asking his brother for advice without actually asking. But there were very few alternatives, and no one else's occupation worked into as neat an analogy, to boot. He couldn't exactly explain the situation to Seto. Owning a company and insisting on doing as much of the work himself as possible was not comparable.

Blue eyes narrowed, prepared to slice him up. Mokuba shifted uncomfortably in his chair, gripped the armrests a little tighter to brace himself. "Mokuba, are you thinking about working somewhere else?" Seto's mind always thought of work first, personal feelings later. He would have to be patient to get the perspective he wanted.

"No. I just want you to answer my question."

"Is this line of questioning leading somewhere?"

He could see the gears turning his brother's head, searching for the motive. Why _would_ Mokuba ask these questions? It had to serve some purpose. Not that Seto would ever guess. There were things that even the Great Seto Kaiba weren't privy to. The thought brought a smile to otherwise somber features. Sometimes, that was the only solace that Mokuba could take; secrecy felt powerful.

"No. I just want your opinion."

"Then why ask?"

There was no way to phrase it ...comfortably. Telling his brother that there was a grown man waiting on his knees at the door for him _right now_ would be awkward at the very least. It just wasn't proper conversation, though maybe related.

But sometimes Mokuba did grow tired of it. Like today. He wasn't always in the mood to punish or play - but it was his responsibility. Yami had asked and he'd accepted. A sigh tumbled from his lips rather dramatically. After putting on a show at work, he had to go home to start another. Except this one involved something much more intimate, and a lot more important than a few forms or a phone number could be lost if done incorrectly.

Maybe he _should_ start working late, too. Organizing tasks was much easier than feelings. Somehow, even putting his employees to work was easier than doing the same for a single person at home.

"Not at all," Seto said suddenly. Finally, he seemed to realize that for all his prying, Mokuba didn't have any details for him. "You better not be thinking of going."

Voice layered with sarcasm, Mokuba shot back, "And work with someone _other_ than my _brother_? Why on _earth_ would I want to do that?"

"If you're going to waste time asking nonsensical questions, Mokuba, maybe we should do it over dinner."

Ooh. Unexpected. "I can't, actually." He checked his phone for the time, as though it mattered. "I have a prior arrangement. I'm already late."

Seto certainly did not approve of that. The frown stretching across his lips made that clear. "Not work related, I hope."

"And besmirch our good name? Never." Not to mention that, if he was late for meeting a client or a sponsor his brother would literally reach over that polished oak and choke him. It was a rather effective deterrent. His co-workers felt similarly.

Keeping Yami waiting was part of the game, so far as he was concerned.

"If you have an appointment, keep it. Go."

With the way that Seto's jaw was set, Mokuba knew that it was a final decision. There would be no room for without risking a loss in favor. Was it just that easy to slip into managing others? He didn't even know what was planned or what leeway existed, but had decided it was being handled incorrectly. So he was handling it. Or, at least, forcing Mokuba to.

Being able to do that naturally, without the context of work, was just difficult. How could he tell someone else how to live their life? This was a sign, he decided. He was not the sort of person cut out for this work. There wasn't much in life that Mokuba wished for a shortcut to obtain, but acquiring whatever missing gene Seto had was one of them. Being able to stick his nose into everyone's business and feel entitled to dispensing instructions and orders - that was a skill, apparently.

Time to face the music. He stood and let loose another sigh.

"It helps when you know what's best," Seto said suddenly.

"What?"

His brother's stare conveyed that he despised repeating himself, that Mokuba should've payed more attention. "When everyone is stumbling around like idiots - you know your place is at the top. It's that simple."

It wasn't. Yami wasn't incompetent - he was begging to be led. But he couldn't say that, either.

"You're sure this isn't about work?"

Mokuba was already tugging his jacket from the back of the chair. "I promise it's not."

Seto Kaiba being stumped about the subject matter was really the only amusing thing about the situation. Knowing his brother, he'd be hounded for answers in the next few days. "Good night, though I suppose you won't be leaving for a few more hours." The nod he received in response confirmed his suspicions.

"Wait."

Too bad. He'd almost made it to the door. When he glanced back to look his brother in the eye, he saw a light in them. It was a little concerning.

"This isn't about you and Y—"

Damage Control. "NOPE. Definitely not that. Bye." Whatever Seto was thinking, it was wrong - and maybe worse, too. He scuttled out of that room as though his brother were covered in poison.

 _No way he'd know_ , Mokuba assured himself. It was just statistically impossible. The very moment he heard the door click behind him, he tried to pull himself together. Even at the remote possibility of Seto finding out - it was a matter to be dealt with later.

There was a mess of a man waiting for him at home, after all. And he had to perform.

{FIN}


End file.
